


High Stakes

by devilstale



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angels, Demons, Fae & Fairies, Gambling, Illusions, M/M, Magic, Mild Gore, Organized Crime, Public Display of Affection, Tricksters, Urban Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-06-07 11:01:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15217730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devilstale/pseuds/devilstale
Summary: Nine Lives is a night club run by the demon Daire. It's the embodiment of sin and a magnet for the local supernaturals. Notorious for its high profile backdoor business, the club houses an illegal gambling ring where people have lost far more than just their money. At its head: the fae Nebula.The most important rule: First impressions lie; never trust your eyes.Your life is the ultimate gamble.





	High Stakes

**Author's Note:**

> This drabble takes place within my Urban Fantasy verse: Nine Lives -- named after the night club at its center. It's a lose, (more or less) standalone piece that may eventually find its place in a continuous story with an overarching plot. But until then everything will be a bunch of random drabbles that are more or less connected to each other.
> 
> I hope it's not all too cryptic and confusing but enjoyable!

Heavy curtains parted around him as Daire pushed through the hall segregating the private areas from the rest of the club. Security was tight; status and money the magical words granting access to a whole other world -- along with the occasional reckless bastard in a head rush but they never lasted long. They were pawns. Nothing more, nothing less. 

One important rule: First impressions lie, don’t trust your eyes. 

Your life is the ultimate gamble.

The smell of cigarettes and alcohol was potent in the air. A layer of smoke .. over the room the slkdjgls 

To the side of the bar people crowded around one of the tables, their faces a wild variety of expressions -- ranging from deep anticipation to despair next to pure fascination. There was one that stuck out among the crowd, radiating with light -- like he had been kissed by the sun itself.

Nebula. A fae. As old as time itself, a prince amongst his people and perhaps the most dangerous player in the game. 

Out of all celestial bodies, Sol would have been a much better fit. 

Daire stalked around the table until he came to stand right next to the fae.

"What's the price?" In all his time, Daire had never seen him lose. Quite honestly, he wondered where he kept finding people willing to play. His victories must have made the rounds long ago. How anyone was foolish enough was beyond him. Then again, pride was one hell of a fool’s drug. 

"His heart." Nebula pointed to a man at his left. He was sweating visibly, the hair hanging in strands over black eyes as he dragged his nails down his cheek. A demon, quite influential one too. And annoying. Daire would not mind to see him taken out of the equation.

"Just please take it outside the club,” Daire chuckled, quiet enough for only him to hear. “I don't need the floor and table ruined -- again -- and this to become a magnet for the vampires in the front." 

"Oh, Daire, chill. It's like you don't know me at all. I have table manners. You'll see. Now," Nebula hooked his fingers into Daire's jacket and pulled him close. “Come and watch.” His lips brushed over his cheek then to his ears. "Demon hearts,” he whispered licking his lips. “They're so delicious. Maybe I'll have yours someday." 

"Is that a threat?" 

"Don't get too cosy." 

"Don’t get too cocky." A dark grin played on Daire’s lips. 

The threat was as real as it was playful and Daire had not doubt that one day, he'd make an attempt to follow through. But today was not it. And Daire enjoyed the tease. 

“Never.”

Daire shook his head and helped himself onto the chair’s armrest. He crossed his legs and draped his arm around the fae's back. His fingertips slipped under the hem of his shirt, caressing the smooth skin beneath. 

He leaned in,  trying to catch a glimpse of the fae's hand but he slammed them flat on table. "Not even you," scolding, holding his finger up in warning. Daire hummed innocently, pressing his lips to his temple. “Of course.” The grin stayed as did his desire to peek at the cards.

Meanwhile, the dealer -- one of Daire's men -- flipped the remaining cards on the table. Nebula’s eyes stayed trained on his opponent. 

"C'mon I know ya'r just bluffing," the demon growled across the table. 

"Wanna bet?" His grin was diabolical with a pair of amber glowing eyes to match. "Oh wait, you already did! If you call it now I might give you a deal. But if you're so sure that I'm bluffing..." 

The demon gnawed on his lip, obviously considering the offer, but then... "Just play yer fucking cards already." Pride sealed the fall.

Pride and stubbornness. It was those devils the fae bet on. Play the player not the game -- the one rule to adhered to. The demon had lost the moment the cards were dealt and the first bet was placed. 

"Are you sure?" 

The demon grunted, urging him with a nod. 

"Well," Nebula sighed dramatically. Drawing it out by turning to Daire instead and dragging his hand along Daire’s thigh. He leaned in and just when the fae was about to kiss his cheek the demon slammed his fist onto the table, standing now. 

"Come on," he dragged the last syllable. "Quit fondling and play the game. Show me your hand!" 

Daire chuckled, his fingers tracing the line of his collarbone. Nebula rolled his eyes. “What a killjoy.”

“You know how to pick ‘em.” 

"Fine," he huffed and stood, furrowing his brows, glaring at the back of his cards. "You got me." The fae tossed the cards in front of him.

The demon's eyes lit up. His gaze swaying back and forth between his own and Nebula's cards as if he could barely believe his luck as he revealed his own, apparently winning hand, with a triumphant grin. 

Daire leaned forward to catch a better glimpse of the table and the splayed cards. He had to shield his eyes to see. Like he was blinded by light. And at first he blamed lamp above. But there was something off, like the light was reflecting in strange angles off the cards. 

They exchanged looks. Nebula’s eyes glinted with malice. 

"Happy?" He barked at the demon who had already started shoveling money. Daire raised his brows in amusement. One would think they couldn't come any more stereotypical than that.

"But, hang on, just a second, buddy." Nebula interrupted him, holding up his finger, rearranging the cards with the other hand. "Would you look at that,” he said, feigning surprise. “So close. But-- looks like your heart is  _ mine _ ." Nebula bared his teeth, eyes shifting from smoldering amber to a liquid gold. 

Coins clattered on the table. The demon's mouth agape. "What?! Cheater!" He yelled, aiming a coin at the fae -- and badly at that. Daire plucked it out of the air, with a chuckle. 

"No, not really. You just need to pay more attention  _ next time _ ." 

"Fucking tricksters!"

”Your first mistake was thinking you ever had a chance.” He propped his hands on the table, leaned forward. The other players and bystanders had backed away; people at the bar were turning to see the spectacle. The entire room was holding their collective breath as the demon clutched his chest in terror. 

Nebula sure loved an audience. 

And Daire would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it.

Then, the fae lunged towards the demon, onto the table to stand amidst cards and coins. He grabbed the demon, lifted him by the neck and slammed him, back first, onto the wooden surface. The demon writhed under his grasp. A shadow flared up in the demon’s hand; but it remained at little more than an attempt.

“Your magic doesn’t work on me, demon.”

The demon winced. 

“Any last words?”  Nebula licked his lips. One hand wrapped around his throat, the other on his chest.

The demon choked, his claws prying at Nebula’s hands, with wide eyes, frantically darting through the room, looking for someone or something to get him out of his predicament. 

“Pl- Please,” he croaked. Then extracted one hand, pulling Nebula down, close to his face. He was shaking, pearls of sweat glistening on his forehead. “Let’s make a deal,” he tried, flashing his teeth with a sneer.

“You’ve had your deal. There is nothing you have left to offer me,” Nebula said soberly. 

His fingers circled the fabric above his heart while he was eyeing the demon curiously. He stopped abruptly, forcing his hand through skin and bones. The horrible cracking sound went through the room like a shudder, followed by the agonising screech of the demon, convulsing at his hand. Like nails on a blackboard. 

The crowd around them winced. A few had turned -- obviously new to the bearing of this place.  Daire treated himself to a glass of champagne he had had one of the waiters bring. 

Nebula’s fingers laced around the demon’s heart; a grin ripped through his features.

Despite the tremors that shook the demon, he tightening his grip on the fae’s collar. Their noses touched. Angry hisses came in a spate of words, pressed between thin lips. It sounded otherworldly but too quiet for Daire to identify. 

Curious, he stepped closer but Nebula’s gaze caught him, warning. Daire backed off and Nebula’s attention was back on the demon. The words seemed enough to make him hesitate. He hummed. And then leaned to his ear, whispering in what seemed to be the same hissing tongue; a content look on his face.

Meanwhile, Daire’s eyes searched the room and locked with Beau’s as he spotted him among the small crowd standing around the spectacle. 

But before he could answer Daire’s wordless request, he felt the presence of another intruding on his mind. Mentally arming himself against the assault, Daire pushed back. “Not even he knows. Let it go, Daire. These words are not for you,” Nebula’s voice boomed in his head. This was his last warning. He let it go. For now, anyway. But eventually, he’d scratch the itch that was now gnawing at his mind. He had to know; needed to hold all the cards  _ especially  _ in matters pertaining his club or its patrons. 

“Your second mistake was believing I’d actually bargain with you.” The fae plunged his hand deeper between his ribs.

“And your third and final one... well,” Nebula chuckled. “You know. It’ll stay our secret. You’ll take it to the grave,” he said, his voice so deep it was sending shivers down Daire’s spine and then ripped the heart right out.

With a godless curse and a voiceless scream the demon’s body went limp. Nebula pushed him back against the table as the body started to dematerialise and stood, holding the heart like a trophy. 

 


End file.
